


Bound

by clio_jlh



Series: Imagine Me and You [19]
Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Obedience, RPF, Romance, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-27
Updated: 2008-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:23:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clio_jlh/pseuds/clio_jlh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon just isn't getting it, and Ryan is frustrated, so he decides to get through to Simon by non-verbal means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound

**Author's Note:**

> So two different people (maybe, it's anon so it's hard to tell) requested "dirty dirty power play with top!Ryan and bottom!Simon" on a recent American Idol kink meme. I don't know about you, but I can't get Simon to the bottom of the driveway in a drabble, much less a power play. Takes place this past Friday, the day after the party for Ryan's April 2008 _Details_ cover, and makes reference to Simon's newly sculpted torso.  
> Ryan references something Chris Richardson said in part 5 of my story [High Art](http://jlh.livejournal.com/327827.html), and Simon references _Peanuts_. Epigram as attributed.

That I should want you at all suddenly strikes me as the height of improbability, but that, in itself, is probably the reason. You're an improbable person, Eve, and so am I. We have that in common. Also a contempt for humanity, an inability to love and be loved, insatiable ambition - and talent. We deserve each other.  
—Joseph L. Mankiewicz, All About Eve, 1950

 

It was an unusual Friday because Ryan had slept in. He'd gone from two Idol days to a regular Thursday—morning show, finish up countdown, E!News—to the party for his _Details_ cover, and just that one thing had pushed him over the edge of needing sleep. Simon had a lunch, but in the late afternoon they went for a long ride in the new car, windows down so it wasn't too hot for Ryan. They stopped and got some sushi at one of those hole-in-the-wall places in a strip mall in the valley, where they could sit in the window and Simon could keep an eye on the car. They were home again and getting out of the car in Ryan's garage when something fell out of Simon's bag.

"I'll get it, Ryan said, as it had fallen near him.

"No, I'll—" Simon started.

"Aww, darlin'," Ryan said, flipping through the magazine. "You said you didn't have it."

"Ryan, you sent it to my office."

"It's a good picture," he said, holding the Details up so his cover photo showed.

"Yes, well," Simon said, reaching for the magazine, but Ryan moved out of the way.

"Good one inside, too. Huh, were you eating when you—oh God, Simon! Don't tell me."

"No, it isn't—"

"It's not like you. I'm right _here_."

"I know that. I wasn't—"

"No," Ryan said, looking at Simon. "You weren't. You were thinking about other people thinking about me."

"I—"

"I don't understand the ego boost."

"Well, as long as I have you—"

"As long as—what? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Ryan, I—"

"No. No-no-no-no-no. I thought we settled this, but you can't get it through that thick skull of yours."

"It isn't—"

"Simon." Ryan looked him square in the eye.

"Yes."

"Go upstairs, take a shower, and wait for me in the bedroom."

"But—"

"Simon. Go upstairs. Take a shower. And wait for me in the bedroom."

"In my robe?"

"In nothing."

Simon stood for a moment, waiting, but Ryan held his ground, so Simon walked into the house. Ryan remained in the garage for a bit, thinking. Downstairs, in back hallway, was a locked closet that had everything he would need. Though, he might bring the magazine too, just in case.

* * *

Simon sat on the bed, a bit nervous to tell the truth. Leave it to Ryan to try to make much of a simple slip of the tongue.

And yet, well, Ryan _had_ been on the winning side of things lately, not just professionally but with Simon himself. He kept calling the bluff, and that was just not on.

And yet, when Ryan got that little glint in his eyes—really, one would have to be made of much stronger stuff than Simon was not to find that damned attractive.

And yet, the _Details_ party had been more difficult than he'd expected. All those people talking about Ryan and how hot and successful he was made Simon want to throw a tantrum. Simon had loved Ryan when he was nothing but potential, frenetic energy and horrible highlights! That he couldn't even claim him now—it was unfair. While he might be a fool for Ryan, he was no idiot. He was pushing fifty in Hollywood, and Ryan had power of his own. It's an old story. Happens all the time.

Ryan swept into the room wearing the black silk robe Simon had given him for Christmas, one of those joke gifts that wasn't really a joke, which Ryan understood as he understood most things, damn him. He was hot in it too, the V showing off his muscular neck and honey-colored skin. As Ryan moved, taking some things out of the bedside table, Simon could see that he was wearing boots, too—black leather knee boots with just a little heel, purchased a few years back when Simon had been a bit effusive in his praise of some boots of Paula's, and Ryan had wanted to make a point. A point, incidentally, not much different than the one he was making now.

"All right, slide backward and lay down flat," Ryan said, not even really looking at him. Simon obeyed, pushing the comforter and other covers aside so he was lying atop the soft white sheets.

"No talking and no touching unless I say so." Simon nodded, and Ryan smiled back. "Good." He ran his hand along Simon's chest. "Mmm, you know, as much as I love the new version, I kinda miss those tits you used to have. Don't scowl, darlin'; I mean that. I kinda do. They turned me on, in some perverse way. I saw that picture and I admit, I was a little jealous, you know, that everyone got to see that. But then they don't know about this." He pinched a nipple between two knuckles, making Simon moan. "Eyes on me, darlin'. Oh, maybe sometimes people see them hard, sticking out of your t-shirt, but they don't know that they can make you come. You wear those v-necks, God, you know just what that does to me, you little bitch. I believed you, when you said you just wanted to be more in shape, maybe a little look good for me, but that wasn't it, was it?" His hands drifted down to Simon's now-flat stomach. "This too. You think I don't know what's going on?"

His hands moved further down again. "Okay, no more teasing. Almost hard already? My, my. Legs apart," Ryan ordered, and when Simon complied, Ryan ran two fingers between them, under the stiffening cock. "So soft," he said, fondling Simon's balls, rolling them with his fingers. "Soft and cool. And this," he grabbed hold of Simon's cock now, finally, and Simon's breath hitched. With his other hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out the black leather cock ring, showing it to Simon, who whimpered. "Darlin'. You know you love this." He lifted up Simon's scrotum, wrapping the leather strap around cock and balls, then fastened a snap on the top.

"Now to get you good and hard, darlin'," Ryan said. "So hard you almost can't stand it." Ryan reached his hand up to Simon's face and he licked the palm, almost without thinking, then Ryan started stroking firmly. "Eyes on mine, not on your dick," he said," and don't close them. I know it's tough. Mmm, so hot, you know what you do to me? You know what I'm gonna do to you tonight?" He let go and Simon's cock bobbed just a little. "Good. Up on your knees."

Simon rose to his knees and Ryan put his hand on the back of Simon's neck, pushing him down to his hands and knees at the foot of the bed. Ryan let the robe fall open, revealing the workaday black boxer briefs he wore underneath, the strong thigh, and those black boots. "Thank you for taking a shower. You know how much I like you to be clean. You know what I did for you?" He pushed on Simon's neck, and Simon crawled closer to him, his face level with Ryan's crotch. "C'mon," Ryan said, and Simon moved closer, until his face was up against the fabric, and then he breathed in, and—oh God. He couldn't help but moan.

"That's right," Ryan said. His hand was strong on the back of Simon's head. "All afternoon in that stuffy car, wearing those tight jeans you like, all sweaty." Simon pushed a little closer, and Ryan chuckled. "Go ahead, sweetheart." Simon nestled his nose right in Ryan's crotch and the musky smell, better than any cologne could possibly be, went straight to his head. Ryan's cock was getting harder, and he could feel it next to his face, so he nuzzled it through the fabric.

"I bet you can get it out without using your hands," Ryan said, and Simon suddenly felt determined to do so. He mouthed his cock, kissing it, the cotton soft against his tongue. He pushed it along with his nose and mouth, moving it closer to the fly, Ryan's hand firm and gentle on his head all the while, and the smell making him almost dizzy. He reached in with his tongue, getting the edge of the fabric between his teeth, and pulled it aside, and with one last push back with his nose Ryan's cock poked free.

He looked up and Ryan was smiling down at him. "I knew you could do it," he said, and ruffled Simon's hair, and Simon had the sudden wild thought that if he were a dog he'd be wagging his tail, and how had that happened? But his thoughts were so calm now, compared to before. Just make Ryan happy, and then explain. Ryan will understand. He always does.

"Well," Ryan said. "You know what to do."

Simon looked at Ryan's cock, then looked back up at Ryan to be sure, but Ryan was still smiling, so he pulled back just a little and took the head of Ryan's cock into his mouth, sucking on it, the head fitting so perfectly in the roof of his mouth. He used his tongue, sliding down along that bottom vein, and slowly taking in just a little bit more, and a little more. He still wasn't particularly good at deep throating, but he thought he did all right, though it was harder without his hand there to take care of the base.

"Don't worry," Ryan said. "Just get it where it's comfortable, and I'll do the rest."

Simon looked up, as well as he could with the angle, and Ryan was still smiling, his eyes crinkling. Ryan had fucked his mouth a few times, shallow, and he'd kinda liked that, the way he didn't have to do anything. Oh, he liked sucking cock but Ryan was so much better at it than he was, and there were other things he was good at, like hand jobs and frottage and fucking (he was really good at fucking) but sometimes a man wanted a mouth around his cock. Simon slid along until he felt Ryan's cock in the back of his throat and pulled up a bit, and then moved his tongue around.

"Okay?" Ryan asked, and not sure of what else to do, Simon blinked. "Good," Ryan said, and his hand gripped Simon's head more firmly, holding him in place. Ryan pulled back and started thrusting, slowly at first, and then with longer, faster strokes, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in again, careful not to go too deep, and Simon sighed.

"Don't close your eyes," Ryan said, and Simon looked at him again, because looking at his crotch made him a little cross-eyed. "What was that Chris said? Shove his cock down your throat to shut you up? You know I love it when you talk, darlin'—you talked me into your bed, didn't you? But when I can make you speechless, oh, that's the best, especially like this. And you love it too, don't you? You're my bitch and you love it, look at you, taking it." Simon blinked again, slowly, because he did love it, and if he could he'd be jacking himself off, so he could come when Ryan did. He couldn't wait to feel Ryan's come in his mouth, suck it all down, not spill a drop.

And as if he'd made it happen just by thinking about it, Ryan's grip tightened on Simon's head and he was coming, shouting, "take it, take it, take it," and Simon did.

Ryan pulled out, slowly so Simon could clean him off good. He was panting, and his chest glistened with sweat. He licked his lips. "All right," he said, and pulled a tube out of his pocket. "Prepare yourself, and maybe if you move your ass just right, and you beg me just right, I'll fuck you." He fished a water bottle out of the bedside table and started guzzling it down. "I'd offer you some," he said, "but you love the taste of my come, don't you?"

Simon, who was opening the lube, nodded.

"You can talk now. Tell me how you love it," Ryan said, slipping off the robe and draping it over a nearby chair.

Simon looked at him, in just those boxer briefs and boots, sweaty and golden against the black. "I love it," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "I love how it tastes. I love how I can taste it still in my mouth later. When I'm in London I taste mine sometimes and pretend it's yours. I miss that, I miss your come when you're not there. I love how you look at me when I suck it all down."

"You'd better get moving," Ryan said. "Why should I fuck you?"

Right. He squeezed some lube on his fingers, and then started to bend over …

"Ass toward me, Cowell. I've already fucked your face."

He felt his face flush at that, which was ridiculous because really, he'd happily taken Ryan's dick out of his shorts with his mouth not ten minutes ago, so it must be that he'd got it wrong. He swung around, and realized he could see Ryan in the mirror on the wall. He spread his legs and then reached behind with his lubed fingers. "Er, I know you love my arse," Simon said. "You keep sticking your tongue in it. You can't keep your finger out of it when I fuck you."

"Don't wanna hear it. This is about me fucking you."

"You come so hard when you fuck me. You tell me how tight my ass is."

Ryan had his cock in his hand. "Work that tight ass. Stick it out like a big slut."

Two fingers. Simon spread his knees more and arched his back, rolling his ass as he moved his fingers in and out of it.

"Nice. Now, you call that begging? Why should _I_ fuck _you_." Ryan stared at him in the mirror.

Oh. "I love how you fuck me, Ryan. Remember the first time we ever fucked, and you got me wanting it so bad and I hadn't been fucked in so long. Every time you fuck me you get me begging you for it." He found it difficult to keep his eyes open, looking at Ryan, when he could see himself, too, naked on the bed and moving his ass so lewdly. He added a third finger, and was proud to see that Ryan's eyes were starting to glaze over, staring at his ass. "That night in Paris, you broke me down, I was such a little mess. No one else but you, Ryan. You always put me in my place. Please, you know I need you. I need that cock in me, darling. Fuck me, fuck me, please, I want you so much."

"All right," Ryan said, walking closer to the bed. "Turn around."

Simon pulled his fingers out of his ass, wiping the lube off on his stomach, and turned to face Ryan.

Ryan grabbed one of the bedposts and bent his leg, putting a foot flat on the bed. "I think it's time for these to come off." Simon moved and Ryan shook his head. "No, your fingers are covered with lube, and I don't want to clean that off the boots. You know what to do. Last thing, and then I'll fuck you."

Simon crawled forward and wrapped his arms around the boot, the leather cool against his face, but Ryan so warm and alive underneath it, the muscles in his calf and thigh flexed, hard cock sticking out of his boxer briefs. Simon got the zip in his teeth and dragged it down, slowly, looking Ryan in the eye the whole time, feeling the hairy flesh against his temple as it pushed free of the leather. He repeated it with the other side, and Ryan, neat as always, put the boots under the chair where his robe sat. Then he pushed off those pants, finally, putting them on the chair as well. As he walked back over to the bed Simon struggled to keep his eyes on Ryan's with all that lovely flesh on display.

"On your back," he said, and Simon slid back to give Ryan room. Ryan almost fell between his legs, and one adjustment and his cock was sliding into Simon easily, and they moaned with it, the way their bodies fit together so well, because they were so close in height. But the contrast, too, of Ryan all slender muscles and golden skin and light brown hair and Simon brawny and ruddy and dark. Ryan's hips moved his cock like a piston and Simon pushed up to meet him, rolling with the rhythm Ryan created. Ryan braced himself on his forearms and Simon rested his hands on Ryan's lower back, where he could feel those muscles working.

"Why am I doing this, Simon? Why did I do all of this?"

"You—you love me?" Simon whispered.

"Good, you're getting it," Ryan said, smiling. "Since it isn't getting into that thick head I'll have to fuck it into your ass, huh?"

"Er—"

"Say it."

"You love me."

Ryan started thrusting faster. "Say it again."

"You love me."

"Louder, say it again," and Ryan was starting to pant.

"You love me!"

"Again, again, again, shout it!"

"You love me! You love me! _You love me!_"

"You believe it now?"

"Yes, Ryan, I believe it, I believe you!"

"Finally," he said, and sank down into Simon's arms, and they kissed, and Simon realized they hadn't kissed almost all day. Ryan was close, he could tell, and then he reached down between them and snapped off Simon's cock ring, and the sudden rush of that, of everything, pushed Simon over the edge very quickly and he came, shouting Ryan's name, and Ryan was coming, too.

Ryan collapsed on top of him, panting, sweaty, and Simon ran his hands all over him, touching him everywhere now that he could, and he was still a little amazed that this was where Ryan wanted to be, but then he thought, "He loves me."

Ryan eased out of Simon and rolled over. Simon kept an arm loosely around his shoulders, and Ryan rubbed Simon's chest with the back of his hand, thinking. Then he sat up on his side, head cradled in one hand. "You're an improbable person, and so am I. Insatiable ambition, sure. But we are capable of love, and being loved. Yes, you are. And you only pretend to have contempt for humanity. I know you."

Simon sighed. "Not humanity. Just most people."

Ryan laughed. Simon rolled up onto his feet, and walked into the ensuite bathroom. "Darlin'?"

"Just getting the washcloth," he called out over the sound of a running faucet.

"I was going to—I was trying to wait," Ryan called back.

Simon reemerged. "I know," he said, walking back to the bed. His own chest was already wiped clean. He cleaned Ryan, then chucked the cloth into the bathroom and fell back on the bed. "You didn't say anything about talent."

"I'm not getting into that with you again," Ryan said, shaking his finger. "So," he said, quietly, as he tucked in against Simon's side, "do you believe me now?"

"Yeah."

"Because if you don't, I can just say it all the time until you're sick of it."

"Let's _not_."

Ryan grinned. "I love you, Simon Cowell."

"I know," Simon said.


End file.
